


in case I stand one little chance

by biblionerd07



Series: the jackpot question [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 09:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/pseuds/biblionerd07
Summary: After meeting Bucky through the college ride board, Steve is over the moon about their first date. Now he just has to work through his self doubt to get there.





	in case I stand one little chance

**Author's Note:**

> Three years ago I wrote "whose arms will hold you" for a Stucky Secret Santa exchange and last week, after not writing for literal months, inspiration struck to add to this. If you remember from the first fic, Bucky's bad home life is hinted at. This goes into more detail about that, but there is no physical abuse mentioned.

Steve floats into his apartment in a daze. He can still feel Bucky’s lips against his, still feel Bucky’s hand pressed against his cheek. It takes him three tries to get the key in the lock to open the door. They’re going to have dinner tonight. Together. And then…

Well.

Steve isn’t sure exactly what then. It’s not like he has any hang-ups about first-date sex, necessarily, and he could make a case for this not being their first date, but this just feels _big_. It feels like this is a big something. And Steve has not, historically, had good outcomes from relationships that start with first-date sex. Steve is pretty sure it’s more a personal problem than a cause-and-effect kind of deal, but it still leaves him feeling a little queasy. Bucky doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s going to get mad if Steve doesn’t put out, but Steve’s not terribly confident that he’ll make a good decision in the heat of the moment.

“Helloooo?” Sam says from Steve’s bedroom doorway, tone indicating he’s tried to get Steve’s attention more than once. Steve blinks.

“Hi,” he says, crossing the room to hug Sam absently. “How was your break? Wait, why are you back so early?”

“I have to work,” Sam reminds him. “We talked about this before I left.” Sam tips his head. “What’s your deal? Was James slash Bucky actually a murderer? Did you have to kill him in self-defense so now I have to call in sick tonight so we can bury a body?”

“No,” Steve says. “But thanks for the offer. He’s—well, I mean…um…”

Sam’s mouth drops open. “Did you fuck the ride board guy?”

“No!” Steve cries, too fast.

“You did!” Sam hoots. “Oh, my God. Merry Christmas to him.”

“We did not have sex,” Steve says with all the dignity he possesses. “However.”

“However?” Sam prompts.

“We did kiss,” Steve admits. “And we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Oh, so you didn’t fuck the ride board guy _yet_ ,” Sam clarifies.

“I—” Steve stops. “I may not fuck the ride board guy. Yet. For a while. To be safe.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Steve blows out a breath and goes back to his bed, flopping down face-first. “Remember when I dated that guy from Tinder for two months?”

“Rob the accountant,” Sam says venomously, following Steve and sitting on his legs. “He cheated on you.”

“Yes,” Steve admits, propping himself up on an elbow. “And there was a girl my freshman year who ended up ghosting me.”

“Okay,” Sam says with a shrug. “And?”

Steve takes a deep breath. “And Peggy.”

Sam winces a little. “Steve, you’ve had not-terrible relationships, too,” he points out.

“My relationship with Peggy wasn’t terrible,” Steve says defensively.

“Your breakup sure was,” Sam reminds him.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, because that still stings a little if he thinks about it directly. “I slept with all of them on the first date.”

Luckily, Sam is a very smart guy. He’s also well-versed in the horror-show that is Steve’s mind, and he figures out Steve’s thought process right away. “Steve,” he says patiently. “You know sleeping with them on the first date had nothing to do with how those relationships went.”

Steve sighs. “Technically, I know that.”

“But you’re still freaking out about it,” Sam concludes.

“I just…” Steve shakes his head. “It’s stupid, okay? But this feels different. It feels really special. Not that none of those others weren’t special.”

“Rob the accountant was trash,” Sam says flatly. “Pure and simple.”

“Well, maybe,” Steve concedes. The guy did cheat on him repeatedly. “But I don’t know. It just feels like—have you ever felt like, even though you don’t _technically_ know someone all that well, you do?”

“Of course,” Sam says. “Riley.”

Steve nods solemnly. Riley was Sam’s boyfriend all through high school and the first two years of college. They were going to get married, but then Riley died in a car accident that left Sam in the hospital for nearly a month. Sam still hasn’t dated anyone seriously since, and it’s been two years.

“And you,” Sam adds, lightening the mood with a nudge to Steve’s ass. “I agreed to move in with you after getting coffee with you once. I have excellent intuition.”

“You really do,” Steve agrees.

“Except for the fact that you’re gross about your socks.”

“I wear two pairs, and the top pair never touches my feet, so they’re fine for another wear!”

“But they touch the _floor_ and they touch your shoes!”

“This is not what we’re talking about,” Steve says, exasperated, because there’s never a satisfactory end to this argument. “We’re talking about the possible love of my life.”

“Oh, of course,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. But then he gets serious. “Steve, I don’t think having sex or not having sex on the first night is going to make a difference, in the grand scheme of things. But if it’s going to make a difference in how you feel and how you approach the relationship, then act accordingly. If he’s worth it, he’ll understand.”

“You’re right,” Steve says. Sam nods decisively, secure in the knowledge that he always gives the best advice. “I do want to have sex with him, though,” Steve confesses.

“Uh, yeah, I could tell that from the first text you sent me,” Sam huffs.

“You could not.”

“Yes, I could.” Sam adopts a breathless voice. “Sam, he’s so dreamy. He has blue eyes and a marble jaw. He drives like a dream. We saw a movie together and he made my mother laugh. Please be my best man at our wedding next spring.”

Steve lifts his legs to dislodge Sam. “You’re the worst.”

“Oh, Sam, we shared a bed and he smelled so good. He’s such a gentleman. He bought me popcorn and you should see him sexily eat froyo.”

Steve kicks Sam off his bed, and Sam retaliates by throwing one of Steve’s discarded shoes back at him. “You will not be my best man!” Steve yells, shielding his head from Sam’s attacks.

“Please,” Sam says. “Like you could pick anyone else.”

He’s not wrong, so Steve simply throws a pillow instead of denying it.

 

Steve changes his shirt three times before Bucky knocks on the door. Sam’s already at work, which is a blessing and a curse. Sam would examine Bucky if he were here, which would be kind of embarrassing but would also help Steve a lot. Sam wasn’t mistaken about his great intuition. Steve’s intuition is not always great, so Sam confirming how great Bucky is would take a load off Steve’s mind.

Steve’s pretty sure his intuition is right this time, though.

“Hey,” Bucky says, smile overtaking his face when Steve opens the door. “You look great.”

Butterflies are erupting in Steve’s stomach. He goes up to his tiptoes to give Bucky a quick kiss. Which turns into a longer kiss. Bucky pulls away, looking dazed.

“Wow,” he says.

“Okay,” Steve says. He hears how breathless he sounds and remembers Sam’s imitation of him. Damnit. “Um, let me just grab my coat.”

“Sure,” Bucky says amiably. He looks around curiously as Steve rushes to yank his coat off the arm of the couch. It is not, he can hear his mother reminding him sternly, where coats belong. But he was in a rush.

Bucky takes his hand as they walk down the sidewalk, and Steve’s heart flutters. He gives himself a second to ride it out, just in case it’s a heart palpitation, but the flutters float down his stomach when Bucky squeezes his hand, so Steve figures it’s the safe kind of heart fluttering. The good kind. He can’t hold back on a smile and it makes him duck his head.

“So,” Bucky says, shooting a smile at Steve. “I don’t want you to think my date was last-minute. I sorta had some plans before I even asked you.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Wow. The guy who spent all of break mixing a CD that would play a crucial song at just the right moment? I’m shocked you planned a date in advance.”

Bucky huffs. “It’s good though, right? It’s not creepy or pathetic?”

Steve bumps his shoulder into Bucky’s lightly. “I don’t think it’s creepy or pathetic at all.”

Bucky ducks his head a little, a blush spreading across his cheeks, and Steve feels like he’s going to float up to the clouds. “’Kay, but you didn’t say it was good, either,” Bucky points out teasingly.

“Well, you haven’t told me what we’re doing yet,” Steve shoots back.

Bucky tips his head back when he laughs. Making him laugh gives Steve a thrill, just like it did when they went to the movies. It’s probably a little ridiculous to be proud of it, since Bucky’s in no way stingy with smiles or laughs, but Steve still puffs up a bit. He doesn’t know all the details of Bucky’s home life, but he knows it isn’t good. Making Bucky laugh, even over some lame joke, means that at least for one second, Bucky’s happy. Steve wants to make that happen.

Steve might already be way too invested here. He was already worrying about Bucky after spending a day and a half with him. He might need to cool it here.

So of course, his mouth opens almost against his will and he blurts, “I’m not having sex with you.”

Bucky’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline. “Um?”

Steve’s cheeks are burning. He must be bright red. Maybe he can blame it on the cold. “I, uh.” He lets go of Bucky’s hand and stops walking. “Okay.” He blows out a breath and rubs his forehead, wondering what to say. Will he be jumping the gun if he tells Bucky he feels like this could be something serious, something great? This is only their first date.

“Hey,” Bucky says, stepping closer. He brushes a hand gently across Steve’s cheek. “It’s okay, Steve. You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. You don’t need a reason.” He cracks a wry smile. “I already shared a bed with you without any sex. I’m not just going to jump on top of you at the drop of a hat.”

It settles Steve’s stomach and takes a weight off his shoulders. He doesn’t _really_ know Bucky all that well, but he thinks he should’ve known Bucky would be a perfect gentleman.

“I meant not _yet_ ,” Steve explains. “Not tonight.”

Bucky nods, face serious. “Yeah. Okay.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, that’s kind of a relief.”

Steve’s sudden ease of mind disappears in a snap. “It is?”

“Not because I don’t want to!” Bucky scrambles. How can he already read Steve’s face like that? “I do. But I mean, I’m not really a first date sex kind of guy. I can be kind of old-fashioned sometimes.”

Steve feels another smile coming on, thinking about Bucky paying for dinner and buying pie and mixing a CD over winter break. “You’re a real romantic, huh?”

Bucky shrugs. “Well, you’re worth the effort.”

Steve has to look away for a second. Bucky is too much. And Steve can tell this isn’t a line. Bucky really thinks that. Bucky probably treats _everyone_ this way. He probably keeps a spare toothbrush around for his one-night stands.

“Okay,” Steve says, laughing a little. “So, come on. Let’s see what else you spent all of your winter break planning.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but his lips are tugging upward in the corner. “I didn’t say planning _this_ took me all of the break!”

“Oh, so you’ve got a standard first date you’re taking me on?” Steve teases as he takes Bucky’s hand again.

“You caught me,” Bucky deadpans. “One-size-fits-all for dates.”

“When your weather-control powers aren’t working,” Steve says.

“Obviously.”

They don’t walk for long, but it’s bitingly cold. Steve doesn’t have gloves, but he doesn’t want to let go of Bucky’s hand to put his own in his pocket. He can’t feel his fingers—or Bucky’s—by the time Bucky pulls him to a stop.

Steve shoots Bucky a look, nonplussed. “A hotel?”

Bucky cringes. “Okay, this looks kinda bad considering the conversation we had ten minutes ago, but I promise that’s not what this is.”

“Okay,” Steve says.

“Okay?” Bucky repeats. “You trust me?”

Steve bites his lip. It usually takes him a long time to warm up to people fully, to really trust them. But he got comfortable with Bucky fast. “I trust you,” Steve promises. A flurry of emotions flits across Bucky’s face, and there’s something heavy in the air between them for a second. Steve swallows and adds lightly, “I mean, like you said, we already slept together.”

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes. “Alright, wise guy, use my lame jokes against me. Come on.”

They go inside and Bucky nods at the girl behind the desk. She nods back and gives Steve an up-and-down glance. Steve tries to act like he doesn’t notice. But he must pass her inspection, because she grins at him and shoots Bucky finger-guns.

“Oh, God,” Bucky mutters. He’s smiling fondly. “That’s Becca,” he says, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at her.

“Oh,” Steve says, fighting the urge to twist back around and get a better look at the sister who defended Bucky to their judgmental stepfather. He’s dying to ask more questions, but he bites his tongue. From their two rides together, the day at the movies, and the texts they’ve exchanged, Steve knows Bucky doesn’t love talking about his family. Steve’s not going to pry and upset him tonight of all nights.

Bucky stops outside the pool, and Steve cracks up laughing. “You’re joking,” he says.

Bucky’s grinning, proud of himself. “I owe you a good hotel pool swim,” he reminds Steve. “And I promise Becca keeps this place tip-top.”

“No Band-Aids?” Steve checks.

Bucky groans, laughing. “Blegh, don’t remind me or I might puke.”

There’s no one else in the pool, and Steve wonders if it’s because it’s a weeknight, because this is a midrange hotel in a town of mostly college students, or because it’s winter. Maybe Becca blocked the place off or something. Steve isn’t sure she’d do that sort of thing—or even if she could—but he feels like people close to Bucky probably want to do nice things for him. Steve knows he does.

He doesn’t let himself feel self-conscious as they strip down to their shorts. They already went through this the night at the hotel, anyway. But Steve can’t help but notice Bucky joins him in wearing just boxers this time. He had workout shorts at the hotel. Steve keeps his eyes strictly above the belt. They agreed no sex tonight, and he’s sticking to his word.

It’s easier knowing that’s what Bucky wants, too.

Bucky does a cannonball into the water and splashes Steve with the chlorinated water. Steve dips his toe into the water. He’s not a big swimmer. And chlorinated pools have not, traditionally, been great for him. He really doesn’t want to ruin this date by having an asthma attack. This was a fun idea, an inside joke, and he doesn’t want Bucky to feel bad about it.

Also, he’d love to go a little longer before he has to admit to Bucky all the things that are wrong with him. Bucky knows about his heart surgeries, but Steve had told him he’s pretty much fine now. It had been a little white lie, something he didn’t anticipate ever being called on. He really doesn’t want Bucky to find out _this_ soon.

“You coming?” Bucky calls, eyebrows raised.

Steve takes a deep breath and jumps in, though he sticks a little closer to the shallower end than Bucky did. Bucky swims right over, and of course he looks totally natural in the water. He swims with ease and floats like he lives in here. Steve feels like a drowning cat, and he can’t imagine he looks much better. His eyes are going to be bloodshot when they get out, too, from the chlorine irritating his contacts.

But Bucky is grinning and laughing, and his bare chest is muscular with a light dusting of dark hair, and Steve can’t help but feel _happy_. This is fun. This is silly. Steve loves this.

“I should’ve brought floaties,” Bucky laments. “You know, the kind you lie back on? With the cupholders. Could’ve made a real party out of it.”

“This is definitely the kind of tropical paradise I’d expect to find pool floaties at,” Steve says, straight-faced.

“Hey, my weather-controlling powers are warming up,” Bucky says defensively. “Gimme ten minutes, I’ll show you tropical paradise.”

Steve shoves at Bucky and Bucky skips back, his laughter echoing around the enclosed space. Bucky floats on his back for a while. Steve doesn’t know how long he can tread water. He teased Bucky about it, but those pool floaties do sound nice.

“I guess I didn’t _actually_ think this through completely,” Bucky muses, righting himself and coming back to Steve.

“What do you mean? This is great,” Steve says loyally.

“Well, we should’ve eaten first,” Bucky says. “But I was worried about that whole waiting thirty minutes before swimming thing.”

“Is that actually real?” Steve asks. “I haven’t exactly spent a lot of time swimming.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Bucky admits with a shrug. “I wasn’t going to risk it! Your first impression of me wasn’t so hot.”

Steve furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“I showed up covered in chili from work and my music was lame and then you got stuck overnight with some random guy you didn’t know!” Bucky looks distressed. “I didn’t expect you to be hot, okay? And I got held up at work and didn’t have time to go home and shower and still get to your place on time. I figured it was better to be punctual, even if I smelled a little.”

“You didn’t smell,” Steve tells him, which is only a tiny lie. Steve got used to the chili smell really quickly. “And it was definitely not your fault that we got stuck overnight. You made it way more bearable than I was expecting.”

Bucky cracks up laughing. “Well, there’s a vote of confidence.”

Steve huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Bucky skims a hand across Steve’s bare shoulder. “I was just really kicking myself when I saw you and then even more when we started talking and I liked you so much.”

Steve feels that fluttering feeling again. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting _you_ to be hot, either. I couldn’t stop thinking about how awful and awkward I was being.”

“You weren’t,” Bucky says, almost defensive. Like he needs to defend Steve from his own insecurities. “Honestly. Riding with you was the highlight of my winter break.”

Steve’s stomach twists, and he can feel his face doing the same. “Bucky,” he says softly. “Was it really bad at home?”

Bucky sighs. “Come on,” he says, tipping his head toward the side. “I don’t know how long we really need to swim here.”

They pull themselves out of the water and let their feet dangle off the side of the pool. For a second, neither of them say anything, and the only sound in the room is the slosh of the water around their feet.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Steve finally says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I opened up that can of worms.” He says. He looks at their feet. “My stepdad spends a lot of time kind of…pretending I’m not there,” he says. “And I guess I shouldn’t complain, right? I mean it’s better than it was before, when we used to just scream at each other.”

“Bucky, being ignored isn’t something to feel grateful for,” Steve says, anger building in his throat. That’s no way to treat anyone, let alone Bucky. Bucky was working to put Steve at ease from the minute they met. Bucky’s kind and funny and obviously incredibly smart. Ignoring him should be illegal.

“I could stand not talking to him for however long,” Bucky says with a scoff. “But he doesn’t want _his_ daughters spending too much time with me, either. Won’t let me be alone in a room with them and never lets them shut the door if I’m in the room.”

Now Steve wants to spit. “He thinks you’d do something to your own sisters?”

Bucky shrugs. “I think he’s more afraid of me saying shit to them. Turning them against him, that’s what he always says.”

“Sounds like he’ll do that just fine on his own,” Steve mutters.

“Hopefully,” Bucky agrees. “It’s not just that I’m bi. He’s always been a little cold to me and Becca. He didn’t really want us but it wouldn’t look so good for a pastor to push his wife’s kids off to the side, right?” Bucky rolls his eyes. “Not so _Christian_.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, stomach dropping. “I wish I could go back in time and do something.”

Bucky gives him a little smile. “Thanks. The ignoring thing really isn’t so bad. I quit going to church a few months after he tried to kick me out that time he caught me with a guy. That made things really bad for a while. Lots of screaming and fighting and him threatening to kick me out a bunch of times. I couldn’t wait to graduate and get out of there. He was always saying I’d brainwash his kids. Now he just doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t look at me, doesn’t respond when I talk.” Bucky shrugs. “Could be worse.”

“That’s still horrible,” Steve murmurs. “Bucky, you don’t deserve to be ignored. What about your mom?”

“My mom doesn’t push it,” Bucky says. He doesn’t say anything else. Steve remembers that Bucky’s mom didn’t even fight when her husband wanted to kick Bucky out in high school, and he thinks of the quiet way Bucky had said, _my mom’s had a hard life_. His throat starts to get tight. Everything about this is so _sad_. It’s such a contrast to how bright Bucky seems to be all the time.

“Becca came out here with you?” Steve asks, hoping Bucky’s sister is a happier topic.

“Yeah.” Bucky smiles fondly. “She’s been following me around since the day she was born. This is the only school she even applied to.”

“She goes to school here too?”

“Yeah, but she went home earlier and came back later.” Bucky’s voice turns slightly bitter. “He doesn’t have any problem with her being in the house, long as she follows the rules.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. It hurts him, thinking about Bucky feeling uncomfortable and unwanted, ignored and shunted off to the side, forced into a religion he doesn’t want. He squeezes Bucky’s hand. “You know, I meant it when I said my ma would be more than okay with you coming around,” he says. Then he blushes a bit. “Probably more now that—well.”

Bucky’s smile grows. “Yeah? Now that what?”

Steve wants to hide his face, but there’s nowhere to hide. They’re sitting here in their wet boxers, no one else around. So Steve puffs himself up to try to seem bolder and says, “Now that we’re seeing each other.”

“Hm,” Bucky contemplates. “Seeing each other doesn’t sound real invested.”

“Well, it’s only our first date,” Steve points out.

“Is it?” Bucky counters. “I mean, we don’t have to count the ride to Brooklyn and back or even the night we spent together. But we _did_ go to the movies, if you recall.”

“Of course I recall,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “And froyo.”

“Froyo definitely seems like a date,” Bucky reasons. “So, let’s say this is our second and a half date.”

“Second and a half?” Steve asks skeptically.

“Well, the movie is a date activity, and froyo is a date activity. That’s sorta like two dates, but since it was one day I say we call it one and a half.”

“Okay,” Steve accepts, smiling now.

“So second a half date, a mixed CD, multiple kisses, the New Year’s Eve call…” Bucky’s ticking them off on his fingers as he lists all this. “I don’t know, Steve, seems like we could be more than casually seeing each other.”

“Bucky, are you asking me to go steady?” Steve asks, working hard to stay serious. He wants to collapse in a heap and laugh giddily. He was worried about being too invested too fast, but here’s Bucky admitting he’s in the same boat. Steve could jump up and down.

Bucky does not work to stay serious. He laughs and leans closer into Steve. “I sure am,” he says proudly. “I’ll find you a letter jacket to wear.”

Steve bats his eyelashes. “And he’s a jock, too?”

Bucky preens. “ _And_ an honor student.”

Steve’s impressed by that for real. He’s about to make another joke, though, just because they’re having fun. But he happens to glance over and notices a flash of uncertainty in Bucky’s eyes. This whole time, Steve thought Bucky was teasing and playing it cool because he was completely certain of how smitten Steve is. But now he thinks maybe Bucky is doing that because he’s _nervous_. He’s afraid Steve’s going to shoot him down.

Steve leans in and kisses Bucky, a gentle, sweet kiss. They’re both smiling by the end. Steve presses his thumb into the cleft of Bucky’s chin. “I want to be exclusive,” he murmurs. “I know it’s early, but I didn’t stop thinking about you a single day of winter break.”

Bucky’s smile is soft. He bites his lip and looks down, still smiling. He looks back up at Steve and kisses him. “I’m so glad,” he whispers. “Because I didn’t stop thinking about you, either.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, back to teasing but grinning so wide it’s almost painful. “I kinda got that when you made the CD.”

Bucky laughs. “I’m probably never living that down, am I?”

Steve kisses him again. “It’s good,” he says. “It’s not creepy and it’s not pathetic.”

Bucky nuzzles his nose along Steve’s. “What a relief.” They kiss a little more, just lazy little presses of lips. Steve feels so happy he could burst. “Hey,” Bucky says after a few minutes. “I really should’ve thought this whole swimming in boxers thing through. This is not comfortable.”

Steve has to laugh. Bucky is unfortunately right. They gather up their clothes and Bucky tells Steve to use as many towels as humanly possible since Becca has to wash them. But Steve notices Bucky only takes one for himself, and he tidies up around the pool area as they dry off and get dressed. That warm ball of feeling in Steve’s chest grows, especially when Bucky brings their used towels with them instead of throwing them in the otherwise-empty hamper.

His intuition was definitely right about Bucky.

Becca’s on the phone as they leave, so Bucky leaves the towels neatly folded on the floor behind her desk, flicks her in the arm, and waves as they leave the lobby. They eat dinner at the campus cafeteria with Bucky’s student employee discount, and Steve counts the night as one of the top five nights of his life.

 

Steve sighs as he hits the call button. He’s put this off for two days, but he can’t in good conscience put it off any longer. Playing the work card only buys him so much time.

“Hi, baby,” his mom answers happily. “I was getting worried about how much work you’d put off from Christmas.”

“I lied,” Steve admits. “I haven’t been busy with work.”

“And just what have you been busy with?” Sarah asks. She sounds amused, and Steve knows she can already guess what he’s been busy with. She cements it by adding, “Or should I say who?”

Steve groans. But there’s no denying she’s right. “Yes, okay? You told me so. Bucky likes me.” He can’t help but smile. “A lot. And I like him a lot.”

“Oh, Steve,” Sarah says excitedly. “I knew it!”

“You did,” Steve agrees. “We’re…dating. We’re together. Exclusively.”

Sarah woops and Steve pulls the phone away from his ear. “I told you so!” She says, clearly relishing in saying it. “And you tried to tell me I was wrong. _Oh, Mom, please, I don’t even know if he likes me like that. Mom, we’re just friends. Mom, you’re just a silly old lady who doesn’t know anything._ ”

“I would never say that!” Steve cries defensively. He does not appreciate all the bad characterizations he’s getting from people imitating him lately.

“Well, okay, no,” Sarah relents. “But I was _right_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says.

“You sound happy,” Sarah tells him. He can hear the smile in her voice. It chokes him up a little bit. His mother has done everything for him. Thinking of Bucky’s situation makes Steve long to hug his mother and thank her endlessly.

“I’m so happy,” he promises her earnestly. “He’s great, Ma. He really is.”

“I thought so,” she says. “I took one look at how clean his car was and how he got your bags out of the trunk and I thought, _that’s a good man_.”

Steve huffs. He thinks his mom might be embellishing a bit, but he doesn’t care. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess you were right about everything, huh?”

“As usual,” she sings out. It makes Steve laugh. She demands details, and Steve is only too happy to dish. He honed all the good storytelling elements while regaling Sam at one am the night after the pool and cafeteria date, so he knows which parts will make Sarah laugh and which will make her _aw_. He doesn’t tell her _everything_ about Bucky’s family, just like he didn’t tell Sam—that’s Bucky’s life, not Steve’s, and Steve doesn’t think it’s right for him to go spreading that kind of stuff around to people Bucky’s inevitably going to see a lot of. Bucky should get to decide for himself how much to share and when.

But he tells Sarah, “I think he might need a good place to go for the next holiday.”

Sarah doesn’t miss a beat. “You tell him to get his butt over to our house. He’s always welcome. He’s so polite. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote me a thank you note for that cookie I gave him before you guys left.”

Steve scoffs, because Bucky’s polite but he’s not _weird_. The cookies weren’t even homemade. He doesn’t say any of that, though, obviously. His mother would find a way to glare at him through a phone call. “I told him,” he promises. “I told him that before we even got together at all.”

“Good,” Sarah says decisively. “Now quit dodging the kissing issue.”

Steve laughs. He dutifully answers his mother’s questions with as much decorum as he can, and she only says _I told you so_ or some variation three more times. After he hangs up with his mom, he finishes the last of his grading while texting with Bucky, and he can’t stop smiling. When he answered Bucky’s ad, all he was thinking about was finding a way to get home. He got that, for sure.

And it’s early yet, too early to be thinking about this, but he can’t help but think it’s possible he got that way home even more than he’d known.


End file.
